Spectrum
by LexiTactics
Summary: Two hearts of two different worlds are connected by a unlikely and unexpected war. POV changes a lot between the characters.
1. Prologue- Dark

_Author's note: This appears to be a popular ship I got inspired to write on after a spell in DeviantArt. Sorry if this is out of character, but just let me get this out of my head, okay? This is loosely based off art/Under-the-Moonlight-498103341. Oh, and the first person viewpoint switches A LOT from the two characters. Thanks, R &R!_

 _Spectrum  
Prologue: Dark_

 _Cue:Brave Frontier- Lost Palace_

(?'s P.O.V)  
I tread lightly, leather soles making no sound as I rush through the palace. The lighting here is non-existent, darkness shrouding my approach. The flawless black glass covers everything, the surface smooth and reflective. I quicken my pace, scarf fluttering. All the guards see is a blur, something to be dismissed as a trick of the drink.

Leap off the balcony, roll, recover. Orientate, flat out sprint.

Scythe.

(?'s P.O.V)

I swing at the intruder, slashing at the head. He neatly sidesteps, tries to grab and flip me. This is no random desperate robber; he has too much speed and skill for that. I shove, sending him off kilter for a second as I bring my scythe down, connecting with a bracelet as he twists, the beads scattering onto the floor.

(?'s P.O.V)

Thank Lucius that wasn't my hand. She's not a palace guard, looks to be a princess. So the rumours were true, and there was a second one in the palace. The next swing comes, narrowly missing my head as I duck, and I spring upwards, leaving her overswinging from the scythe's momentum and sheer weight. As she stumbles, a neat kick in the back sends her sprawling. Target's on the left. Sorry, princess, no time for this.

(?'s P.O.V)

He's vanished. Probably made for the treasury and left. While I dust myself off knowing he's long gone, my mind occupies itself with the possible reasons why I wasn't killed. According to the soldiers, there's a green chivalrous vigilante running around stealing from the rich. Sort of like that Robin something legend in History, before everything changed. "Zel Knight" is what he declared himself; though most just refer to him as Zelnite. Judging from his actions, it should be him. I won't bother the Emperor with this, not while I have my own mission. Zelnite, if that's even your name, I'll be ready if we meet again.

 _Author's note: Yeah, I know it's a bit short. Like, really short. Don't worry, I'm not cutting corners or reducing content or anything. Thanks for reading, and pray this doen't end up like Relations. Thanks!_


	2. I- Avarice

**I: Avarice**

(Zelnite's P.O.V)

This war complicates everything. Everything's on lockdown, everything under guard. It's not a problem to steal enough for my survival, but that can't be said for all the innocents caught up in these war preparations. Bariura especially- the bandit chiefs have taken over, the land's in utter chaos. That backstabbing thief Leon is back, eager for revenge. His silhouette is easily spotted in the fading light. Guess he never had much luck with stealth. Probably stole that title too.

(?'s P.O.V)

The people are in despair over this war. Rebellions, uprisings all over the countryside and even in the inner ring. I wish I could stay and help, but down here my power is limited to what I can do with my scythe. And there's no reason to trust a lonely girl walking down the ruined cobble with a scythe her height. Maybe I do look fearsome. Plus, I have my orders. The mission- the girl- is more important.

There's another group of those filthy thieves and sellswords at the side. Circling another victim, I take it. Should I- No, no. I can't deviate from my mission. Calm down; ignore their brandished swords and axes. Ignore the bloodlust in their eyes, and the animalistic growls emerging from the back of their throats.

Curse that sympathy of mine.

(Zelnite's P.O.V)

The fool's right there, scowling and ranting. Wasting his breath. I let my gaze wander, skimming the ranks of the bloodthirsty horde behind him. Brutes. Cowards. As I realise that I spoke out loud, there's a whistle of a dagger plunging towards my throat. Muscle memory kicks in and I parry, boot landing a solid blow against his unprotected stomach. He crashes to the ground hard, unable to block my chained scythe from slicing into his wrist after a 360 degree arc. With a snarl, the first bandit rushes me, his back hitting the cold hard ground with an astonished cry and a snap of bone. With an unspoken signal, the seething mass charges forth, a clumsy uncoordinated movement which results in more injuries on their end than mine.

Wait a minute. Screams of pain and death, at the back of the crowd. There's a familiar Stygian Black scythe cutting the weeds down like a bushwhacker. Again?

(?'s P.O.V)

Speed and grace. Dodge the clumsy strikes and cleave through their bodies, leave them screaming on the ground along with their fallen comrades. No time to finish them off, more fill up their places as soon as they fall, skulls cracking under their heavy feet. I spin, bloody scythe and centrifugal force chopping and cleaving through limbs and flesh. For a while, it seems just like a dance, a bloody dance. But even the best dancer tires. Gathering all my energy, I just pray that whoever these thugs were terrorizing is long gone. Things could get ugly.

(Zelnite's P.O.V)

I rush through the confused horde, slicing at their exposed skin and leaving a trail of screams in my wake. Incapacitated, they're of no use, much less harm. But it's as if they're rising from the ground, an endless mindless horde. Think the princess probably realized this too.

My honed senses tell me of a sudden gathering of dark energy. Is this her doing? Doesn't she realise the impact on her body if she holds this amount of energy? She's trying to do something, but what?

Oh. Maxwell save us.

(Cue: Fire Emblem Sacred Stones: From The Darkness)

(?'s P.O.V)

I focus my inner element and will the darkness into a wave of pure destruction. The energy solidifies, rends the air as sharp projectiles. There are only screams as the sharp shards strike and bury themselves in flesh, tearing through and sucking the souls of the damned, the forsaken tumbling to the ground with their final expression of fear forever etched on their faces. I dimly realise that my scythe has clattered to the ground as I slump to my knees. The world turns black.

(Zelnite's P.O.V)

By the Gods, that was powerful. That princess has hidden talent, controlling that amount of darkness. It would've have killed me too, if not for that Aegis Cloak I had pilfered from Leon. Another favour he had done me. I pick my way through the bodies, aware that my armour is shredded like it was set upon by a few Hellhounds. She's right in the centre of the bloodbath, flat on her back. Her face is sallow, pale, short ebony bangs doing nothing to hide her exhaustion. Gently, I pick up her prone body and her scythe. Let's hope that the Inn doesn't refuse me and the princess.


End file.
